Chapter Five
Philadelphia, PA
Early Sunday
Evening
When his phone rang, he was right in the middle of paperwork that he’d not gotten finished during the day. As of late, the office was chaotic, and Greyson Croft knew that was par for the course.
Honestly, he’d rather have a busy office than one where Gabe Rothschild was visiting and up his ass every day of the week.
No one wanted that.
NO.
ONE.
They were a little too conveniently located near Washington DC for his liking.
Answering his personal phone, he saw the number and was grateful that it wasn’t his boss, but instead one of his co-workers, and friends, checking in.
Thank God.
Only, it perplexed him as to why Gene would be calling him. The two men were in Puerto Rico, and they should be naked in a cabana somewhere.
That was what Gene said his plans entailed.
Oh, hell.
He hoped he hadn’t accidentally dialed him during some little sex moment.
That was something he didn’t want an update on.
“Yo. I hope you didn’t naked butt dial me,” he said, busting the man’s ass.
Oh, Gene wished.
Only, this wasn’t going to be a fun call for him, or for the man he was reporting it to. There was no way he was calling the local office before his own.
“I have a problem.”
Oh, Jesus.
How could they possibly have an issue? It was day one of their vacation.
“What happened?” he asked, almost hesitantly.
Gene was standing in the surf, and the only thing working to their advantage was it was dark out, and the beach didn’t have a lot of people on it.
“We found a body.”
Greyson started laughing.
Honestly, he had to be kidding. There was no way this was real, and the man had to be punking him.
Right?
“Funny. Har-har. Are you drunk?” he asked. “Don’t you have someone better to be doing than busting my ass?”
Oh, Gene wished he was drunk, and he could be doing Ethan had they not gone on a walk.
“Grey, it’s a Fed. I found the body of an FBI agent I went to Quantico with, and I need to see if he’s still active. All I have here is my ID, and I don’t have the tech. I don’t want to alert the office here unless I’m sure.”
Oh, Jesus.
From the tone in his voice, the man wasn’t kidding.
This was bad.
Not for him, but for the two agents on the island of Puerto Rico.
“What’s his name?” he asked.
He shared that information, thinking back to when he’d been new with the FBI. It wasn’t that long ago—just over five years.
“Jarod Shand.”
Greyson paused.
At the name, he recognized it, and really didn’t have to look it up.
“I know him. He was transferred out of the DC office last year. The only reason I know him is because his partner is here. He was teamed up with Antonio Hill for the last five years. Then, Antonio was sent here a year ago, and Shand went to Puerto Rico. I heard them on a call one day. Antonio was telling him that he was a lucky SOB.”
Apparently, he was not.
Because this ‘lucky’ SOB was now dead and on a beach.
“Just check,” Ethan said from where he was standing.
As Gene waited, they could hear the man’s fingers on the keyboard of his laptop.
That’s when Greyson confirmed it.
“He’s active. He filed a report to Gabe two days ago on Friday. How did he die?”
What?
How was he supposed to know?
Was this what the MEs felt like when they asked them the same question, and there was no way to answer that?
Well, he’d have to speculate.
Gene kept his voice down as the three other men surrounded the body in case anyone came walking down the beach.
Thank God they were on a private resort, and most of the gays were partying in the club off of the hotel.
“He looks like he was beat to hell and back. When I flipped him over, because he rolled up to us in the surf, I could feel all the broken bones in his body.”
OOF.
Was it wrong to hope it was a simple drowning and not anything nefarious?
“And…”
Greyson waited for it.
“What?”
“He’s got weird symbols all over him. Call me on video call, and I’ll show you,” he offered.
Oh, Jesus.
Greyson needed to see this.
The bottom line was that now that he’d been tagged in, he couldn’t not take over it.
Greyson knew that since this was a Fed, the people in that office would want this case, and he had to give it to someone NOT in that office.
Gabe had a rule about if an agent died from a specific office, the people who were his co-workers weren’t allowed to touch it.
He said it muddied the water.
So, he who found it, worked it, if they were a Fed, or it was directed to the office the ‘finder’ called home. It meant less fighting over cases like dogs over a meaty bone. There were no claims of preferential treatment to certain agents.
In this case, it was the two vacationing men and the Philly office that was now tagged in.
That meant he’d have to figure out how to tell Gabe they were on duty—and found the body—when he was told they went elsewhere to vacation.
Like Damascus and the Midwest.
Yeah, this was a mess.
Because he needed to see how bad this was, Greyson called him back, and the video chat began.
Gene was crouched down, and he showed the man the body. In fact, he let the video scan down the ‘victim’ and recorded the markings.
Whoever was working this might need it.
“Oh, boy,” Greyson said.
There was no way this was a drowning. They weren’t going to be that lucky.
In the video chat, Ethan was beside his partner.
“What do you want us to do? Should we call the office here and alert them? He’s a Fed, so this is out of the local police’s hands.”
Yeah, they weren’t going to like this.
Not.
One.
Bit.
“Um, well, here’s the situation. I have two people who have no choice but to work it. Those two people are you.”
Gene gasped.
What?
There was no way.
“Grey, you wouldn’t do us dirty like this. We’re on vacation! We just got here today!”
He sighed.
“Since he’s a Fed, his office can’t investigate this, and the local cops can’t either.
You know Gabe’s rule. If an agent goes down for nefarious reasons, his co-workers can’t handle the case.
We have to send in new agents, and if the person is found by Feds, it reverts to the office the agents work at. ”
Oh, shit.
Gene closed his eyes.
He’d read that memo, and didn’t give it a second thought because where would they find a body?
They found them in Philly all the damn time.
Greyson continued.
“The FBI is strapped when it comes to people, and you know that I am down two people this week—you two. The ONLY two agents in the vicinity of the body who work out of this office and can work it are you two.”
Fuck.
Fuck.
Fuck.
This did NOT make Gene happy—not in the least. His plans were to fornicate, not investigate. It seemed like the universe was trying to cockblock him at every given chance.
“Greyson.”
The man had no choice.
“I can call the office, and alert them, and you can have help if you need it, but there is no way they can work that case. The local cops can assist, too, but again, they can’t run it.
Director Moore made this rule, and even Gabe can’t overrule him.
It’s to make sure no one gets preferential treatment. ”
Gene closed his eyes.
What the holy hell had he done in his last life to be punished in this one?
He literally had a horny man next to him, stuffed full of sex toys, and a nice hotel room where they planned on getting down and dirty again.
And now, they get blindsided with a body.
His luck was officially the shittiest luck on the planet.
Without.
A.
Doubt.
“I’ll help,” Corbin offered.
At hearing the voice, Greyson’s eyebrow went up, and he was confused.
“Why is Corbin Price in Puerto Rico with you and Ethan while you’re on vacation?” he asked.
Corbin grabbed the phone and waved.
“Hi! We snuck onto the plane and tried to surprise them, but they knew we were following them. Gene is very observant. I’m sure he could handle this case.”
The man being talked about was appalled.
Well, no shit, he could handle it. The point was that he didn’t WANT to handle it. The only thing he wanted to handle was Ethan.
Before Corbin could talk Greyson into giving him more work, while on vacation, Gene grabbed the phone back and stared at Corbin like he’d lost his goddamn mind.
Because, clearly, he had.
“Are you insane?” he asked. “Really?”
Corbin just laughed.
“I was trying to be helpful. I’ll help you work it. In seven days, I’m going back to work helping you guys anyway. What’s the difference?”
Maybe he was even grateful that it wouldn’t be all-of-the-time sex, now.
Corbin could handle detecting.
Sexing, not so much.
Gene couldn’t even believe his ears.
What was the difference?
Well, maybe that they were on a well-deserved vacation, and needed it for their mental health—like he’d just told the man.
If he had to work, he’d lose his freaking nut.
Bet.
On.
It.
He pleaded.
“Grey, don’t do me dirty like this. I’ll shove this body back into the surf, toss my Native over my shoulder, and head back to my room. I’m not playing!”
Greyson wished he had another choice.
Only, he didn’t, thanks to that new policy by Director Moore.
“Gene, my hands are tied. You reported it in, and this is the office you work out of, currently. I have to assign people, even if I don’t want to do it.”
Gene wanted to cry, and he couldn’t believe this.
“Grey, come on!”
Again, he had no choice.
“We all answer to Director Moore, who laid down the law. It’s weird that the office there doesn’t know that they are missing an agent. I know I have to be on top of you guys twenty-four-seven.”
Ethan saw Gene’s face, and he was anything but amused. Oh, and he didn’t blame him.
“Again,” Corbin offered, “I can help…”
Ethan handled that.
With one arm, he shoved him backward, and the man fell back into the surf.
AGAIN.
Much to his dissatisfaction.
Greyson continued.
“They must not know that they are missing an agent. If they knew, they would have told Gabe and there would have been a search for him. Then, Gabe would have sent a team to work it. I’m sorry, guys, but finding him tied our office to it.”